


i giorni della merla

by windingwoods



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle, xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, tho its mostly a pretense (like everything fai does lmao), yuuko's ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windingwoods/pseuds/windingwoods
Summary: The stumbling tale of a retired witch with two kids tucked under his wings, a  big bad watchdog and a makeshift family of nosy individuals who maybe know too much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ive been working on this thing for So Long and im not even nearly halfway done yet which means i shouldnt be posting it but Here We Are! it's most likely going to update slowly so y'all have been warned.  
> that said, i'll stop you right now if you feel like researching the meaning of the plants i used because i didn't bother myself, i just picked the ones that bloom in winter trying to be realistic lmao. what i Did research is oyakodon, known as "parent-and-child- rice bowl" since there's both chicken and egg inside. it felt somewhat morbid and kinda appropriate for the occasion to me, i have a terrible sense of humor.  
> also, the title means "the days of the blackbird" and it references to the last three days of january, said to be the coldest of the year in italian.

His phone rings while he’s busy brewing himself some well deserved coffee, sleep heavy under his eyes after a whole day at the flower shop. He really does need to hire an assistant if he wants to keep this up without running himself into the ground.

(And really, what else could he even do at this point.)

Fai turns away from the coffee machine towards where his phone is and grimaces at the pale, bluish glow coming from the screen; it’s one of his old spells that still hasn’t worn off, there to warn him if the person contacting him has magic in them or not.

Whoever is calling right now definitely has some, if not a lot.

He tries to steel himself, schooling his lips in a thin smile even though no one is there to potentially see right through him, then picks up the phone.

“Fluorite speaking,” he says, wills away the note of displease coming from the fact that he doesn’t have this unknown number in his contacts list. He likes to think he sounds just fine, chipper even.

“I must say I’m deeply hurt,” says a voice all too familiar, and Fai can feel the blood draining from his face. “To think that you don’t even have my number saved, I thought we were friends.”

“Milady,” Fai utters after a long, terrible second, almost bows his head out of reflex because the person at the other end of the line is Nadeshiko Amamiya, and there’s no such thing as being too polite towards a member of the Amamiya family. Especially if said member happens to be one of the most powerful witches in their region, especially considering Fai quite literally owes her his life. (Or what’s left of it after— _after_.)

Nadeshiko is kind though, always too kind as she asks Fai if he’s doing alright, something in her voice giving away the little faith she has into him telling the truth about that (she’s right, but at least she can’t see Fai’s fingers twitch), and replies with ease when he redirects her formalities back at her.

She’s probably gotten more out of him with just this than Watanuki with his not so subtle questioning in months.

“Anyway,” Nadeshiko says after clearing her throat once, which should be Fai’s cue to hang up on her and burn his phone _and_ maybe flee the country while he’s at it. He stays perfectly still. “You remember Sakura, my youngest? She’s turned sixteen in spring and she’s been talking my ears off about her training since then.”

How could Fai not remember Sakura; he was nothing more than a kid scared out of his mind when he had seen her, itty bitty and hiding behind her mother’s ceremonial gown so that only a tuft of her hair and bright green eyes peeked out— but that had been enough to settle in the back of Fai’s mind like grains of sand in his shoes.

“I was hoping…” And here Nadeshiko’s voice falters ever so slightly for the first time. Fai closes his eyes, imagines the creases around Nadeshiko’s, wonders if they’re any deeper now that time’s passed. He knows what’s coming next.

“Wouldn’t you be her mentor? Your town is close by enough that I wouldn’t have to worry and I know just how good you are, I know she’d be in good hands.”

Fai takes a deep, even breath. “Milady—”

There’s a sudden noise in his ear that sounds as if Nadeshiko’s about to say something, but the line stays silent with quiet static, so Fai goes on.

“I haven’t used magic in a long time,” he murmurs, fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt. Somehow he remembers to turn off the coffee machine. “And I don’t think I’ll use it again anytime soon.”

He leaves the ugliest part unsaid, the _I could only teach your daughter curses and misery_ stinging on the tip of his tongue like copper, like the magic inside of him that maybe has already gone stale without him looking.

Nadeshiko only sighs. She doesn’t press the subject any further, but Fai knows she’s unconvinced, she’s worried, she’s many things he would rather live without.

“I’m still sending Sakura over there,” is what she chooses to say in the end, careful word after careful word. “She can learn from Watanuki and stay at my cousin’s place, I suppose.”

Fai hums, pretends not to hear the ringing inside his head after Nadeshiko’s hung up.

 

.

 

He tries not to dwell on it for the next few days, busying himself with his work at the flower shop until he can barely keep his eyes open when nighttime comes and with it the unease he’s been never truly able to shake off in years. It’s on an especially restless evening that he hears a knock at his door, enough to tug him a step back into reality.

He walks up to the front door (well, technically that would be the shop one, the entrance to his apartment hidden in the rear of the small building) with a sinking feeling of suspicion in his gut and nearly jumps out of his own skin when he takes a look through the peephole and is met with big, round green eyes. The same eyes that glanced up at him from behind Nadeshiko years ago.

“Milady Sakura— ?” he almost shouts, croaked and stuck in his throat, as he pulls the door open and shivers at the cold wind suddenly howling in his face, droplets of rain already landing all over the pavement.

“Um, just Sakura is fine,” comments the trembling young girl in front of him and only now Fai registers how she’s drenched from head to toe. There’s a boy standing close next to her and Fai steps back a little to hurry them both inside; he can sense magic coming from the boy too, not as strong as Sakura’s but somewhat more polished, honed and disciplined.

“You’re Fai, right?” asks Sakura. She looks tinier than ever with wet hair plastered on her forehead and an even wetter coat clutched in her hands. Fai’s own hands move on their own to gently take it from hers and hang it next to his own, repeating the same gesture with the boy afterwards.

“I’m sorry for imposing on you like this, we were supposed to get to my aunt’s place but we got lost in this rain and it just wouldn’t stop so I—”

Fai can’t help but huff out a small laugh, smile easing from polite to endeared far more quickly than expected. “It’s alright, we can talk after I get you both a warm bath and some clothes ready, hm?”

Both kids blink up at him for a second, both clearly still uncomfortable with the idea of taking shelter from the downpour under a semi-stranger’s roof, but then Sakura reaches out for the boy’s hand and they both shrug out of their shoes.

“Thank you very much,” they both recite in unison and, well, it makes Fai feel a tad less tired.

 

.

 

One long bath and a less fruitful than previously hoped research for dry clothes (just a quick look inside of the kids’ bags was enough to confirm Fai’s worst fears in relation to their abysmal waterproof properties) Sakura and Syaoran, which Fai’s learnt to be the boy’s name, are sitting with their backs endearingly straight, twin steaming cups of hot chocolate clutched in their hands. Their things are hung to dry all over the bathroom and part of the living room.

“So,” Fai starts, and he hasn’t been this cautious about not spooking another living creature since the first time Himawari showed him her familiar; coincidentally, the kids sitting in front of him kind of remind him of ruffled up birds too. “Did your mother give you my address? Or Watanuki’s, maybe? Though he lives a little further down the road, I’m afraid to tell you.”

Of course it has to be Watanuki, he thinks idly, it’s him who’s going to teach Sakura in Fai’s stead because Fai is just—

Sakura shakes her head, somehow manages to straighten up even more. “Ah, no, I… I just followed my instinct? I had a feeling we would be safe here.”

She breaks into a smile, wide and bright and the first he’s ever seen on her; there’s a hint of pink coloring her cheeks but she’s not averting her eyes and Fai finds out that he can’t but return that smile in full, a part of his mind pondering in awe just how _strong_ Sakura’s latent magic power must be.

“Ah, but my mom did tell me about you though!” Sakura continues, then, after a small pause, “we met once when I was younger, right?”

He wonders what kind of memories might she have about him, about the rattling heap of bones, taut skin and nerves he was back then, when Yuui suddenly wasn’t there anymore but Ashura was, huge and imposing, magic akin to Fai’s own to the point where he could hear it like a tuning fork if he stepped too close. He wonders if Sakura might have been scared of him back then, but he still asks, “so you remember me?”

Sakura nods with such certainty that it makes Fai wonder, if only for a second, whether she’s ever felt lost once in her life, and her magic sings around her like a choir. Syaoran visibly relaxes next to her, sleep already beginning to curl up in his eyes, the hold of his fingers on the cup loosening a bit.

“You two should sleep for now,” Fai says as he walks to the window. It’s still raining hard, but that’s to be expected. “This weather won’t stop until the flock has fully migrated, and that’s going to take at least a couple of days more.”

This time it’s Syaoran who speaks, alarm coursing through his voice in an almost comical way. “The flock?”

“Yeah, they’re—”

“Rain spirits,” Sakura interjects before Fai can explain, voice hushed in something like reverence, only warmer, friendlier. “They were saying hi to us earlier, I could hear lots of voices coming from south-east.”

_Count a little miss sunshine to befriend a bunch of harbingers of storms_ , says a voice inside of Fai’s brain, quickly hushed because there are more pressing matters at hand, such as two kids stranded in his house for the next couple of days and his guest room needing… some vacuum cleaning. _And_ new sheets.

“Do you two mind sharing a bed?” he asks, which makes Sakura turn a lovely shade of pink and Syaoran something more like a concerning, angry red. He’s feeling way too fond already.

 

.

 

It takes the flock three days to leave, the same exact amount of time it takes for Fai to realize his resolve not to let himself get involved has already crumbled and dissolved like the cookies Sakura likes to dip in her honey milk when she gets cold. He muses he might have been screwed from the very moment he let her and Syaoran in, if not from Nadeshiko’s call.

On the morning of the fourth day Fai wakes up knowing a few things for sure: he knows Syaoran likes his plants (he’s seen him gravitating around the windowsills during the few times the pipsqueak allows himself to take his eyes off Sakura) and that his plants seem to like him back just fine if the vibrant orange of his clivia is any indication. He also knows that Sakura is prone to naps, can fall asleep just about anywhere and will most likely mumble when she’s dreaming, or that Syaoran is Sakura’s self appointed guard for her time away from home, which she doesn’t comment on but with a gracious huff of laughter behind curled fingers.

And, most of all, he knows having two growing kids under his worn out wings is not as terrible as he thought.

When he manages to disentangle himself from his sheets and feelings of impending doom alike he realizes there’s a nice smell wafting from the kitchen, which his stomach welcomes with a rather eloquent growl.

“Alright then,” he mumbles under his breath, searching for his slippers with aimless prods of his feet. Once he’s made his way to the living room he finds Sakura brimming with energy and setting the table, while he can see Syaoran busy cooking something.

“Fai!” Sakura greets him with a smile that makes him feel dizzy. “Today it’s finally sunny!”

_And today you leave_ , laments a voice in his head he’d rather not listen to. “Sure is!” he says instead, nods his head at Syaoran who’s poked out of the kitchen.

“Are you okay with _oyakodon_ and _miso_ soup?” Syaoran asks, to which Fai’s stomach replies with another, louder growl.

“You didn’t have to—” Fai tries, but Sakura’s already nudging him to take his seat at the table and Syaoran’s making that face he makes when he’s trying really hard to suppress a smile as he heads back to kitchen and comes out a few moments later balancing way too much food on two trays.

He’s going to miss this.

“So,” he says around a mouthful of _oyakodon_ once they’ve all settled down, “today I’m going to take you two to Yu— to Watanuki’s place, since the rain’s finally stopped.”

Sakura almost chokes on her rice, snaps her head back up and traps Fai with the most intense puppy eyes he’s ever seen anyone making.

“You’re coming with us!”

It sounds like it should have been a question at some point but few are the things that go through Sakura’s shimmering enthusiasm unscathed. Gods, Fai himself isn’t quite making it.

He hums. “Yes, well, the _zashiki warashi_ gifted me this reaaally nice liquor a while ago and there’s a certain ghost who’s going to haunt me if I don’t make her a proper offering with it.”

That makes Syaoran frown, although it looks more out of confusion than disapproval, but none of them says anything else and the conversation ends up shifting to who’s going to cover up for Fai at the shop (“a good friend of mine and a lovely young lady!”), Sakura’s newest tap game (Fai’s not sure he’s ever going to get the hang of those), how many breadcrumbs should they leave on the balcony for the birds (“it’s never too many, Syaoran, they’re _hungry_!”).

By the time they get ready to leave Kohane’s already outside busy unlocking the flower shop entrance and Fai should really get going but he can spare some time to wrap her up in a hug; her nose is beet red when he introduces her to Sakura and Syaoran, he’s not sure whether out of embarrassment or just because of the cold.

“Say hi to Kimihiro and the others for me,” Kohane murmurs, fondness quiet and unwavering, and Fai kisses her forehead in response.

 

.

 

The glass of liquor sits heavy and reassuring in his hands, the _kotatsu_ warm on his knees. Syaoran is sitting near him, popping tangerine slices into his mouth as he flips through the pages of a book Watanuki’s lent him.

“Sooo,” drawls Yuuko, or, well— Yuuko’s ghost, pale and translucent and floating next to Fai’s shoulder like a content, flying cat. Fai’s seen some of those in his life, but none with the same fierce passion for alcohol and meddling. “You’ve been taking care of those fledglings, huh.”

Fai takes a slow, careful sip. “‘s not like I could leave them out in the storm, little Sakura’s mom would’ve had my head on a plate.”

“Moreover,” he continues after a pause, glancing down at Syaoran from the corner of his eye, “it was only a temporary measure. Tomoyo’s going to pick them up today.”

Yuuko hums, low and otherworldly in a way she never was back when her body was flesh and not ashes, but still amused enough for Fai’s lips to quirk in a defensive smirk. Yuuko’s amusement is nothing short of an ill omen.

They both keep quiet for a while, then Yuuko sighs.

She’s looking at Fai like she’s searching for something, like there’s something she might have caught a glimpse of but she’s not so sure anymore now that it’s gone, eyes alert and piercing.

“I’m going to disappear soon, I think,” she says, like it’s something simple, and twists Fai’s lungs with her words. “If everything goes well.”

“What do you mean—” Fai starts, but suddenly Watanuki and Sakura walk back into the room from their lesson and the world around him turns into a flurry of Sakura’s wild gesturing and high speed report of all the _so cool_ things Watanuki’s teaching her; it’s just a moment, but when he turns back Yuuko’s already vanished.

“And they say I’m the skittish one,” he mumbles before turning his full attention to his little _protégé_ and… the definitely very tall guy in a black coat standing behind her that Fai definitely didn’t notice at first.

He’s about to ask Watanuki who might the guy be when Tomoyo pops up from behind him like a spring, hands reaching for Sakura’s shoulders like that’s where they’ve always belonged.

“It’s been so long!” she coos, and the big guy rolls his eyes in poorly hidden fondness at the theatrical spike in her tone. “How are you, my dear? Syaoran?”

Both Sakura and Syaoran respond with ease to that, casual greetings tossed around the room like paper planes, and it makes something misguided and longing inside of Fai wonder how must it feel, the whole childhood friends thing.

“Ah, Fai.” Tomoyo is looking at him now, warmth still lingering in her stare. “This is my brother, Kurogane. I believe I’ve told you about him?”

If they were alone Fai would _laugh_ , because all Tomoyo’s told him about are embarrassing family stories. He needs to behave himself in front of the kids though, which is why he says, “but of course! It’s a pleasure to finally meet the famous Big Pupper.”

As he leans back a bit to better enjoy the view a few things happen in quick succession: the guy’s eyes widen comically at Fai’s usage of an old nickname Tomoyo used to call him, then they almost disappear under the weight of his frown and his mouth opens, probably to say something really rude to either Fai or Tomoyo (or both), but Sakura beats him to the punch.

“Actually I was hoping we could stay with Fai!” she nearly shouts, words all jumbled up. “That is, if that’s okay with him, of course…”

She sneaks a hopeful glance his way and Fai can’t help but feel like he’s just breathed in fresh air, his magic a soft buzz under his skin. He didn’t know that could still feel nice.

“I feel the same,” Syaoran chimes in, and Tomoyo smiles like she already knew, which could easily be true considering she’s the best dreamseer in town now that Yuuko’s gone.

“Fai?” she asks, soft, so Fai bows his head.

“I could never say no.”

 

.

 

“Oh my, if it isn’t my _favorite_ patron!” Fai chirps in tune with the shop bell as Kurogane walks through the door with the face of someone who’s just got a slice of lemon shoved in his mouth. This makes the third time he’s visited the flower shop in the span of a week to get whatever ingredients Tomoyo claims to need for her spells. Fai has a feeling both him and Kurogane know she’s making things up at this point.

“What is today’s order, sir pupper?” Fai singsongs, just because. Might as well have fun with this even though he has no idea of what might Tomoyo be scheming.

Predictably enough (and predictability is something Fai likes, something he can work with from a reasonable, safe distance without getting his fingertips burnt), Kurogane goes up in flames.

“That’s not my name!” His nose looks kind of cute when he scrunches it up while shouting. A problem. “But— a dozen of camellias and hellebores. Please.”

Fai smiles, just a tad bit sharper than he would with most customers, and reaches for his shears.

“So, what is our lovely lady up to this time?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer: it’s _nothing_ , even young witches in training know camellias have no magic in them. (It’s a different thing with hellebores but something about them doesn’t seem like Tomoyo’s style, not flashy enough.)

“Hell if I know,” is Kurogane’s grunted response. “Even brats know camellias are useless.”

That makes Fai stop for a split second, something dangerously akin to smitten surprise stuck in his gears as Kurogane continues, “I swear, she’s doing this in purpose to mess with me.”

“Us,” Fai corrects, not quite sure why he’s even bothering. Must be Kurogane’s sort of hilariously fake frown when he talks about his adoptive sister. “She’s messing with _us_.”

Why he doesn’t know, or likes to think so, but the truth still stands. Although that doesn’t stop his guest’s frown to deepen. “You seem to be having plenty of fun to me, florist.”

Fai hums, snips the last few stems and wraps it all up, not before slipping in some wild mint; to detect ulterior motives and ward off annoying spirits. “I do try my best, yes.”

 

.

 

His whole body feels like it’s humming a hymn, power flowing through his bones to the ice cold tips of his fingers, murmuring words he’s known since he can remember that speak of things long gone. Sacred things, still.

If Ashura were there he would say something about the human nature and people’s tendency to place the highest value in the past and its relics, but Ashura isn’t there and the only chill in his bones comes from his own magic and Fai _breathes_. In and out, shards of frost and magic dancing to the rhythm he sings for them.

It’s exhilarating, it goes straight to his head and makes him feel dizzy like he hasn’t felt in a long time, maybe since he was a kid toeing the line between testing his limits and letting magic tear him apart like a rag doll, and Fai laughs as if he’s being punched the air out of his lungs because none of this can hurt him.

Then he wakes up.

He blinks up at the ceiling for a long moment: it’s exactly the same as it was when he went to sleep (the same spots of mold, same thin cracks he should get checked), the whole room is just like he remembers it and there’s snow falling silently outside. Then, slowly, he forces himself to sit up and face the fact that he’s dreamt of using magic again and, worst of all, that it felt _good_. He can hear Yuuko’s voice with frightening clarity, going on about she oh so told him with that tone of hers that makes her sound like a cat with canary feathers peeking through its teeth.

“So _what_ ,” he says out loud, though it doesn’t do much to silence his inner Yuuko-conscience. Figures.

“This is not going to change anything,” he continues, then kicks the blankets off and starts making his way to the bathroom. It’s not like he’s going to go back to sleep anyway.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for not very graphic asphyxiation

The ground is covered in halfway melted snow and ice, and Fai’s secretly placed a bet with himself about whether or not Kurogane’s gonna slip and land with his legs up in the air before they’re done doing… whatever Tomoyo thinks she’s making them do. It’s one thing for her to make Kurogane her errand boy (Fai couldn’t care less) and send him on ridiculous trips to the flower shop (this Fai could live without, even though he must admit he does enjoy the company), it’s another to actually involve Fai in her antics in any way that includes him leaving the house on an ice cold, murky day.

“This sucks,” Kurogane says, voicing out loud what Fai’s reputed himself a tad too gracious to express. “This friggin’ sucks.”

 _Friggin’_ , snorts his less gracious side, but before he can make any comments on Kurogane’s surprisingly proper vocabulary the walking mountain of pent up frustration by his side carries on by himself. “I bet she could find her damn ring by herself if she wanted.”

That much is most likely true, considering how skilled Tomoyo is; moreover the allegedly lost ring itself is a magical item, which makes it pretty easy to locate. For people with magic, that is.

“Poochie sure barks a lot for someone in need of a guide.” It’s kind of a mean remark, but the cold is getting to Fai’s hands through his gloves and, well, he’s been feeling annoyed since Tomoyo woke him up at seven in the morning on a sunday.

Kurogane shoots a glare his way but doesn’t take the bait for once, maybe too busy checking the ground for both slippery bits and the ring, slow step after slow step. Instead he says, “we could get this farce over with a lot faster if only my _guide_ got off his ass and used his magic already.”

So much for the proper vocabulary.

Fai allows himself one rueful smile, gone fast enough that if he’s lucky (which he lately isn’t) Kurogane might have not noticed. It’s not like he was hoping to avoid this conversation for much longer anyway, not with Sakura’s arrival and everyone’s incessant meddling.

“It’s better if I don’t,” he says, looking everywhere but in Kurogane’s direction. He thinks he sounds lighthearted enough but it’s always best to add more bricks to the metaphorical walls.

He can feel Kurogane’s eyes boring holes into his head nonetheless. “Why so?”

“My, my, you think I won’t be able to find a simple ring without whipping out some spells? You _wound_ me.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Big guy.” Subtlety seems to be out of question, the buzzing in the back of his mind is growing louder. “You should watch your manners more, or you might step into a snake nest.”

They find the ring soon after that, and no one says anything anymore.

 

.

 

He’s been staring in silence at the movements of Tomoyo’s hands for a while by now, only answering as amiably as ever to her assorted variations of “is it too tight around the waist?”, “how are Sakura and Syaoran doing?” and “how are _you_ doing?”. The last one she makes sure to sneak in with apparently effortless nonchalance, so Fai dances around the topic with just as much casualness.

If Sonomi were there they’d both be in for quite the affectionate earful about their little games of wit. Sonomi isn’t there, though, so Fai lets himself buy some more time as he watches Syaoran and Kurogane spar in the garden from the window.

It’s kind of endearing, he can make out the bright pink on both their faces.

“Ah!” Tomoyo breaks the silence, quiet enough not to wake Sakura up from her napping spot on the couch next to them. She stabs one last pin in the cloth of the winter coat she’s sewing for Fai and looks up at him with a placid smile. “I still haven’t thanked you for finding my ring.”

“I thought this lovely coat was your way of thanking me?”

“This lovely coat is my way of making sure you don’t freeze to death, since you keep going out in that ancient artifact without the tiniest bit of padding left in it that you call _jacket_.” Fai doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone pronounce the word jacket with such disdain.

“While this,” she says, stepping on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair, “is my way of thanking you.”

Fai can’t help but waver a bit at that, rocking back on his heels and flashing Tomoyo a smile of his own. That’s all she’s getting from him though, considering the whole ring thing was nothing but a blatant ruse.

“Pardon me asking so bluntly but— what are you aiming for?”

Tomoyo’s lips thin into that expression of hers she makes when her dreams tell her things she’d rather not say out loud. She regards Fai with a benevolent look (or what _seems_ to him a benevolent look), the slightest hint of amusement in her voice as she says, “me? Absolutely nothing.”

 

.

 

His phone rings while he’s stepping out of the grocery store, automatic doors sliding shut behind him. He adjusts his tote bag so that it’s digging in the crook of his elbow and starts rummaging through his other bag (he really should sew some pockets in his pants, he’s got some nice fabric the other day from the shopping district sales) until he manages to fish the phone out.

Sakura’s name blinks up at him from the faintly glowing screen and Fai can’t help but smile as he taps to accept the call. She probably wants to ask him to get some sweets on the way home.

“My dear―” he starts, at the same time as Sakura’s panicked voice shouts, “Syaoran’s collapsed!”

He stops dead in his tracks, his mind drawing a blank as Sakura continues. “He was fine just a moment ago! We were watering the plants like you said but― Fai, he’s so pale and I can’t feel his pulse and he’s not _breathing_.”

Something inside of him snaps and now he’s running, his own voice thin with the tension clawing at his throat when he forces himself to spit something reassuring out for Sakura to hold on to.

“I’m on my way, it’s going to be alright,” he says through panting breaths. “Don’t move him from where he is, just…”

He makes a sharp turn, nearly tumbling right into a lamppost. “Rub some verbena leaves on his forehead in circles, clockwise, and keep checking for his pulse.”

Sakura gives an affirmative hum, in equal parts determined and miserable, and Fai grits his teeth when pain flares up in his gut as he picks up the pace. It takes him another ten minutes to get to his place and by the time he rushes inside he’s tried to call Watanuki three times already, all gone to voicemail.

Sakura is waiting for him in the living room, eyes big and swelling with fear, Syaoran motionless by her side.

For a long, terrible moment Fai can’t do anything but balk at the waves of dark magic coming from him, creeping their way up Fai’s ankles with silk-like touches and then recoiling just slightly when Fai’s own magic crackles under his skin. It’s a curse, there’s no doubt about it, and he’s got a good idea of who might have casted it too.

“Sakura,” he says, as slowly as he can. “Did Syaoran try to tidy my study?”

He crouches down next to her and takes Syaoran’s hand in his: the curse isn’t too strong, it’s something Watanuki or Tomoyo could break in a matter of seconds, but Watanuki’s not answering and Tomoyo wouldn’t make it in time, not with the way Syaoran’s face keeps getting paler.

“He, uh, I think he did… There were some cobwebs.”

Fai curses under his breath; Jorougumo’s handiwork, just as thought. She’s more or less on good terms with Fai, but she’s not one bit less volatile and prideful than when she’d snatched Watanuki’s eye away from him.

Terror is making him go light headed so Fai takes a deep breath, forces himself to think of anything but Ashura and the cold and blood at his feet. Yuui murmurs quiet words of encouragement from the tangle of memories he’s tucked him into.

He squeezes Sakura’s left hand with his right. “I’m going to need you to keep me here with you.”

She nods curtly like she knows all that’s going on inside Fai’s mind and still has the utmost faith in him, which might even be true if Fai could let himself dream of something like that, of understanding and trust so absolute―

Magic wracks his body like an orchestra, the drumming of his own heartbeat almost deafening as he says out loud words he could never quite forget, etched in the fiber of everything that makes him Fai Fluorite, accursed witch of the northern winters. The winds of his homeland feel like they’re howling inside his head, nostalgic and terrifying at the same, but Sakura’s hand is warm, tangible like stones in his pockets.

When he comes back to his senses his cheeks sting from the bloodrush and Syaoran’s chest heaves out a soft, even breath.

 

.

 

The thin layer of frost covering the grass cracks beneath his boots as he makes his way to the tree towering in the middle of the park. Its branches are bare in the winter but the large, centuries-old trunk is as imposing and oozing with magic as always.

Beings like that don’t care much about seasons, Fai’s learnt.

He crouches down in front of it, knees aching under his weight as the cold clings closer to his bones. The tree sings to him in a language made out of creaking sounds and flowing sap, a formal greeting, and Fai hums back, letting his head slouch forward.

(In his years in town this is the place that’s always managed to calm him down, to drown out his fears with its motionless calm.)

He’s left Syaoran in his bed, Watanuki and Sakura by his side and more than enough to take care of him; Watanuki had looked mortified after rushing to Fai’s house, one too many apologies on the tip of his tongue, but Fai had just ruffled up his hair, feeling somewhat disconnected from his own actions. There was only room for the feeling of his magic flowing back into his system, a tingling like his whole body had gone numb and the blood was suddenly circulating again.

When he hears the sound of footsteps approaching him he doesn’t even turn around.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, and Kurogane grunts behind him.

“Tomoyo sent me to give you this, since it’s finished and all.” There’s something soft being draped on his back (with a lot more care than he thought Kurogane capable of― not that he’s got any time or resources to entertain this particular train of thoughts any further at the moment) and Fai just stares at the cloth dangling by his sides for a while, processing the warmth, the flowery patterns embroidered in it in hues of blue and pale yellow.

 _That’s Tomoyo for you_ , says the part of him that still feels like he’s holding Sakura’s hand, the part that yearns for all the things he’s been keeping at arm’s length since Ashura’s body had gone limp at his feet, his fingers still pointing at Fai, trying to grab, to _pry_.

“What if I made it worse?” he whispers to the tree, still not looking at the man by his side. “What if _I_ ’ve cursed him now―”

He bites down on his lower lip, curls up on himself so that his chest is pressed flush against his thighs as he sways forward. Kurogane doesn’t need to know this, Kurogane _shouldn’t_ know this.

Fai should just leave, before the mess that’s still whirling inside of him and screaming at how good using magic again had felt can make him say anything worse, but he doesn’t move from his spot and Kurogane lays a hand on top of his head, rubbing it in an awkward, kind of aborted-halfway-through motion. It feels more like he was trying to noogie him but decided against in the end.

“That’s bullshit,” he says, and before Fai can whip his head up to bite, to bristle that what does Kurogane have to do with any of this, “Yuuko’s kid says he’s out of danger now.”

There’s something achingly delicate about that, _Yuuko’s kid_ , her apprentice and family. It stuns Fai into silence, so Kurogane continues.

“The way I see it, you saved a life today. Whatever past shit you’re clinging to doesn’t matter.”

He pauses, Fai holds his breath and his guts and his knees to his chin. Then, “also, you should put that damn coat on properly.”

 

.

 

The doorbell rings while he’s busy taking care of the laundry, so he calls out to Sakura and hears her yelled back reply as she runs down the hallway, a “coming, coming!” that makes him smile despite himself.

He doesn’t catch the other person’s greeting, only hears the door opening and closing, but he can guess and it makes his stomach churn ever so slightly. Ignoring how wobbly his legs feel all of sudden, he makes his way to where Sakura’s fussing around Kurogane in a flurry of profused thanks and attempts at taking his coat off together with the paper bag in his hands.

It’s kind of funny, to see her act the proper host part when she herself is a guest, and Fai feels himself relax a little bit.

“My, my,” he coos, walking up to Kurogane and flashing him a toothy grin he hopes is convincing enough. “Thanks for the hard work, darling!”

“I’m not your _darling_ ,” Kurogane grouses, but hands Fai the paper bag anyway. Inside there’s freshly picked fern fronds, dew still clinging to the leaves and dampening the inside of the bag. Gods know Fai owes the _ame warashi_ a favor now.

“I’ll make the potion for Syaoran with these later, meanwhile…” Fai checks the time on his phone, doesn’t miss the way Kurogane’s eyes linger on the lockscreen. It’s a picture of Sakura roping Watanuki and Fai into a selfie, one of the many she loves to make the people around her take. “Want to stay for lunch? We’re having curry today and you could put those big, manly arm muscles to good use.”

Kurogane sputters at that, something about how he’s always putting his arms to good use and why is Fai such a weirdo and no, dicing vegetables doesn’t count as a workout in anyone’s book, _you useless witch_. Nonetheless he follows Fai to the kitchen as Sakura disappears into her room to check on Syaoran.

Watching him from up close and without gloves on Fai notices that Kurogane has a large, ragged scar on the palm of his left hand; it looks like it might continue up his arm too but Fai doesn’t ask, hands him a spare apron instead.

They stand side by side quietly for a while, Fai busy peeling carrots and Kurogane chopping onions with a far more delicate and competent demeanor than Fai would’ve thought, and it’s nice. Peaceful, even. Then, finished the carrots, Fai grabs the first apple from the basket Himawari’s brought him earlier and hears a groan.

“Something wrong, handsome?” he asks, tries to school his grin into something less silly. Kurogane huffs in dismay.

“Should’ve known you’re one of _those people_ ,” he says, as if he’s accusing Fai of some unspeakable crime.

“And by those people you mean…?”

“Assholes who put apples in their goddamn curry. It’s _fruit_.”

Now it’s Fai’s turn to look indignant, metaphorical feathers ruffled and the smile gone from his face. (His voice hasn’t been wiped clean of that all the way through, though. Such is talking to Kurogane.) “Excuse you! Apples soften and complement the natural spicy taste of the sauce, they’re essential!”

Kurogane makes a face like he strongly disagrees with that statement and is about to refute it in all his manly, defender of so-spicy-you-sweat-your-weight-in-fluids-while-eating curry, which is Fai’s cue to barrel on with his own spiel before he can. “My house, my rules, puppy dear. Also, the kids _love_ my apple curry and the kids are always right.”

That seems to settle the argument judging from the way Kurogane opens and closes his mouth a couple times, grumbling under his breath about awful witch tastes, so they settle back into silence.

It’s only after they’ve eaten and Sakura’s helped Fai brew the potion for Syaoran’s recovery with the fern fronds as Kurogane feigned disinterest from his spot under the _kotatsu_ that Fai walks him to the front door, standing sort of awkwardly in the entrance. He thinks about Kurogane bringing him Tomoyo’s coat, the ingredients for his spells, he thinks of the scar on his hand.

“Um, can you― can you bend down a little?”

Kurogane halts, hand already on the doorknob, and turns to him. He bows his head, looking vaguely perplexed, and Fai really just wants to go dig his own grave already and forget any of this has ever happened.

Instead he swipes his index finger across Kurogane’s forehead, from temple to temple in a slow semicircle and then down the slope of his nose, letting his magic flow from himself to another living being. He’s never been good at protective charms ( _just your smile is enough, smile, smile―_ ) but he used to love this, the feeling of contact so different from something physical yet so, so warm.

He still does love it.

When he looks at Kurogane in the eyes, he sees his own pale blue glowing inside of them for a moment, together with surprise and confusion and something that makes Fai’s head swim.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahh we've finally reached the last chapter of this story!  
> i want to apologize for how slow i've been and at the same thank all of you for sticking around till the end, i'm truly happy!! here's to hoping this conclusion will live up to your patience and expectations

The air around him feels thick, more like he’s swimming than floating, and a pitch black darkness seems to go on for as long as he can tell.

Yuuko smiles to him with an expression Fai’s only seen her make a handful of times, the same expression she wore when she passed away. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

“This is a dream, right?” he asks, wishing it weren’t. “I’m going to feel this in the morning, just so you know. I’m not Tomoyo or Watanuki.”

Yuuko’s smile stretches into something more comfortable, something less ghostly and more like the handful she is― _was_. “I do believe this conversation is worth the little bit of headache you might wake up with tomorrow.”

“You’d know about that, what with all the hangovers,” Fai mumbles, getting nothing but a raucous laugh in response. “Well, what is it that can’t wait my next visit at your place?”

His words have an immediate sobering effect on Yuuko: she still looks somewhat happy, amused by something known to only her, but the look she gives Fai is sincere if a bit cryptic. “You’ve been using your magic again, just like I thought.”

“Just like you _what_ ―”

“It’s a good thing, Fai, a _good_ thing. You should never hold yourself back like that, there was never any fee for you to pay.”

 _What about Yuui_ , whispers something in his head, the broken record he’s been playing since he was no taller than Ashura’s knees. _What about the townspeople, what about Ashura and Mother and_ everybody else. Yuuko seems to know all too well what’s going in his head (which is entirely possible, given the kind of person she is and the space they’re in at the moment) and the lines around her eyes get the tiniest bit more visible when she frowns.

“You’re not cursed,” she says, so gently Fai thinks he might choke on it. “It was never your fault.”

Then she’s gone like a wisp of smoke.

 

.

 

The TV is a quiet murmur behind him as he finishes draping a big cat print quilt over the kids. They were supposed to have a movie night at Tomoyo’s place but by the time half the movie had passed all three of them were already out cold on the big, eerily comfortable couch, sleepover plans long forsaken.

“I swear, that couch has _got_ to be enchanted,” Fai mumbles, rubs the drowsiness from his eyes as he turns to Kurogane, whose only answer to that is a pointed look Fai supposes might mean something like _how am_ I _supposed to know?_ Fair point.

“You comin’?” Kurogane asks instead, an arm outstretched in his direction, and Fai realizes he’s got one leg out the window and onto what seems to be a flat square of concrete in the middle of the slanted roof.

“How adventurous,” Fai comments, mostly for the thrill of it, as he allows himself to take the hand waiting for him and let Kurogane steady him as he climbs out the window. Luckily there’s no wind chill and he’s got another one of Tomoyo’s blankets wrapped around him but the cold still stings his cheeks as he sits down next to Kurogane, who seems to be perfectly fine in just his turtleneck sweater (pitch black, of course) and leather pants. Who the _hell_ wears leather pants to a movie night.

He’s looking at the sky with a soft, almost longing expression, and the unrest inside of Fai seems to slowly melt into peace. It’s reassuring just as much as dizzying.

“Syaoran asked Watanuki about my favorite food after recovering.” He’s not sure where he’s planning on going with this, but it feels right somehow so Fai lets himself run his mouth for the first time in a long time.

“He made it and thanked me for saving him― he thinks I saved him.” He pauses, licks his lips. “They all think I saved him, when all I did was break a simple spell and pray that I didn’t make it worse.”

He can see Kurogane turning towards him from the corner of his eye and for a second the weight of his stare, of his judgment that hasn’t come yet but could still crush him as soon as Fai opens his mouth again, sits heavy on Fai’s chest. Then he dares to look up.

“For the longest time I thought my magic would doom everything I touched.”

Kurogane’s eyes narrow for a split second and Fai has to suppress the urge to up and bolt, regret already twisting his insides into a mess, but then there’s the warmth of a fingertip tracing a line on his forehead as Kurogane brushes his hair aside and mimics the same motions from Fai’s protection spell. His index finger stops at the tip of Fai’s nose, the rest of his hand brushing Fai’s lips ever so slightly, then Kurogane pulls back.

“I’ve got as much magic as one of these shingles but― I’m going to watch your back until you’re done with this self-deprecating crap. Got it?”

Fai wraps the blanket tighter around himself, scoots closer until he’s resting his head against Kurogane’s forearm. The wool of the sweater tickles his skin as he lets laughter shake him gently.   
“That might take a pretty long time, you know?”

Kurogane just grunts in what Fai could dare calling embarrassment, were he feeling bold enough. “So be it.”

 

.

 

“Sakura’s told me you’ve started teaching her some advanced spells,” Himawari says; her voice is light and she’s feigning disinterest by rummaging through some boxes but the topic is enough of a landmine for her act to lose any shred of credibility, especially coming from her of all people. Fai still remembers the time when she was nothing but a cagey little girl learning magic at Yuuko’s shop and keeping everyone at arm’s lenght with a smile and _fear_ , so much fear of hurting the ones around her.

She used to remind him of himself an awful lot back then.

He hums under his breath. “She makes a wonderful student, very receptive.”

“She seemed really happy too, like, over the moon.”

Fai can feel embarrassment creeping up his neck at the implicit compliment and Himawari smiles as she finishes reordering the boxes (part of Fai commends her for her bravery, it takes guts to handle the stuff at Watanuki’s shop without batting an eye) and turns to him with what looks like some kind of plastic case in her hands.  

“Say,” she starts, slowly like she’s weighing down every word the way Watanuki weighs down prices and wishes, “Tanpopo’s just laid eggs and, well, you don’t have a familiar so I was thinking…”

Her voice peters out and she’s tapping nervously on the top of the case― incubator, Fai realizes belatedly, but the hopeful look in her eyes doesn’t waver when she takes a breath and says, “I was thinking of giving one of the hatchlings to you. When they, uh, _hatch_.”

Fai looks at her. He looks at her and sees the gangly teenager grown into someone solid, someone open and unafraid. Himawari’s magic weaves quiet melodies all around her like a gown, still cursed but owned with the same ease she wears the scars on her back, so similar to yet so different from what Fai’s own back used to carry.

“You have too much faith in me,” he says, trying to gather his thoughts into something coherent. “You all do, actually. But… I’ll gladly take you up on that, Himawari.”

There’s a faint yet distinct sparkling in the air the moment Himawari’s smile breaks into a large, ear-to-ear grin, but Fai doesn’t make it in time to even fully register it before she throws her arms around his neck with laughter and excitement in her words, something all jumbled up about how happy she is and how good Fai’s _surely_ gonna be at this, the incubator pressed in between the two of them.

 

.

 

“Do you have a name in mind already?” asks Syaoran one lazy afternoon at the flower shop. He’s been helping out a lot lately, both him and Sakura evidently comfortable enough with the new environment to go about their own business, and Fai gets more and more convinced every day that he was right about his first impression of the affinity between him and Fai’s plants.

“I mean for the bird,” Syaoran adds in a rush, cheeks pink and hands fumbling with the bouquet he’s tying together.

It’s such an endearing view Fai has to chew on his lower lip trying not to laugh or coo; children are sensitive creatures, he knows it all too well.

“I have not!” he replies with an extra dose of cheer, slapping the last lacey ribbon on the casket he’s been commissioned earlier. “I like to believe it’ll come to me once it hatches.”

The truth is that thinking about what’s gotten himself into for more than a couple seconds makes him feel queasy with a heaping pile of worries and worst case scenarios amassing inside of his stomach, but Syaoran doesn’t need to know that. Fai doesn’t need to burden him with it.

Syaoran fixes him with a pensive look but whatever consideration way too mature for his young age he wanted to say gets cut out by the sound of the shop door opening, the windchime Sakura’s gifted Fai for their first magic lesson together ringing as someone walks in.

“‘sup,” comes muffled from under Kurogane’s scarf. The reddened tip of his nose is peeking from the fabric and Fai finds it more endearing than he should, probably.

He’s about to make some kind of witty and airy comment about it, partly to prod at Kurogane’s hilariously volatile composure and partly to distract himself from how _cute_ he looks, when Syaoran jumps down his stool, grabbing something from his bag and hurrying to where Kurogane is standing.

Fai sandwiches his chin in between his palms (they feel a bit ruvid, he makes a mental note of going out to buy hand cream later) and smiles, ready to bask in whatever obscure, awe-filled (from Syoaran’s part, that is) interaction is about to happen when Syaoran says, “I’ve brought you the book you wanted!”

That phrase alone makes the rest of Kurogane’s face go as red as his nose, hands far too quick to grab said book and cradling it to his chest, as if wanting to hide it under his coat and _smuggle_ it or something. “Thanks, I’ll… be going now, I’ve gotta. I’ve gotta go to do things,” he mumbles, already turning back to the door, but Fai’s already scampered halfway through the room.

“My, my,” he drawls, relishes in how deeply horrified and in fear for his own life Kurogane looks right now. “Are you not even going to say hi to me? And here I thought we had something, you homewrecker.”

Kurogane and Syaoran both positively _glow_ with embarrassment at that, Syaoran’s magic fluttering around him in confused murmurs and Kurogane pressing the book harder against his chest, but as much as they make a darling picture together that’s not enough to make Fai back down now that he’s curious.

“I said ‘sup and I’ve got things to do, unlike you.”

There’s no sputtering denial about the two of them having― something, and Fai has to smother fears and hopes alike, easy smile quivering for a moment. “I’ve got things to do too, honey dearest! Like getting a good look at that book you’re clutching like some adult magazine.”

“It’s not an adult magazine!” Kurogane yells, taken aback enough for Fai to slip past his guard and crane his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the cover in between Kurogane’s fingers, only to get the breath knocked out of him in an awkward noise at the back of his throat when the words _Birds - How to take care of them_ catch his eyes in big, rounded letters.

He takes a step back, mouth stuck slightly agape, magic soaring and rushing to his head while his blood drains from his face. Not exactly one of his most graceful moments.

Then he hears Kurogane sigh somewhere above his field of view (he’s still staring at the book, he realizes) and there’s the pressure of knuckles grazing his cheek.

“I’ll call you when it hatches,” he manages to say after a beat, leaning into the touch without thinking, and Kurogane grunts.

“You better.”

 

.

 

The morning the eggs hatch Himawari wakes him up at the break of dawn, voice bleary from sleep through the phone as she tells him it’s going to happen soon. He stumbles out of his bed and into the first clothes he can find in the partial darkness of his room, squinting at his socks and hoping they match, only to run into Sakura’s inquiring stare when he makes his way into the living room. She’s stayed up all night for a ritual and Syaoran is sleeping curled up next to her, most likely in some valiant attempt at keeping her company.

“Is it time yet?” she asks and Fai marvels once again at the extent of her intuition, though this time the look on his face might have given him away a little bit.

He nods. “You can come if you’re not too tired.”

Sakura lights up at that, blurting out something about how she’s slept all yesterday so she’s _super duper ready to go_ and then, quieter as Fai goes fetching their coats by the entrance, “Syaoran, wake up, the birds!”

A ride on Fai’s old pickup and one tentative phone call to Kurogane (he had been wide awake, just like Fai thought) later, they’re all gathered around where Himawari’s crouched down in front of the incubator with Tanpopo nervously flying from her shoulder to her head and back down from time to time. The eggs are already cracked in some places and sitting there waiting for the chicks to come out is nerve wracking, the wait eating at Fai, but Himawari’s told them they need to let the process take care of itself naturally so no one dares moving a finger.

Syaoran and Himawari still look somewhat droopy with sleep while Sakura’s got her hand on Fai’s own, her magic a vibrant energy crackling in unison with his. Kurogane is sitting by his other side with that unreadable expression he makes sometimes when he helps Tomoyo with her work or when he lets Fai pretend that he can play Kurogane like a fiddle, as if there’s still some semblance of distance between them.

When the first hatchling makes its way out of the shell, still wobbly and sticky with yolk, Fai’s breath catches in his throat. He looks at it, unsure of what else to do, until Kurogane turns to him.

“Well, aren’t you going to name it and shit?”

Fai almost snorts, a retort about Kurogane’s inappropriate language not quite making it as he breathes and instead says, “Chii, Chii’s the name.”

 

.

 

Yuuko takes her final leave from their world after a few days. She goes away like a gust of wind and Fai sends Watanuki one of his best bottles of _sake_ ; she would want them all to get smashed in her honor.

“I guess she was satisfied with how things were going,” Fai says, mostly to himself. “How fickle.”

Next to him Kurogane stirs and yawns, the warm afternoon light catching in his eyes as he turns to Fai with an expression nothing short of exasperated. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

His face is so close that Fai has to lean back just enough not to get cross-eyed trying to look at him, mouth curling into a smile as he smells a hint of Kurogane’s aftershave. He can hear Syaoran yelling at Sakura not to splash too much in the puddles from outside and Chii is a constant bustling in the back of his mind as she keeps trying to take flight from the coffee table, her condition as a familiar making her more precocious than a regular fledging.

She keeps him awake at night more often than not but he can’t deny how much he adores her already. (Not to mention some tiredness is still preferable to nightmares and people trying to speak with him from the dead.)

“Kurogane is so brash.” His voice is a whisper against Kurogane’s jaw, his own heartbeat picking up as he shifts closer and Kurogane’s hand comes cradling his side. “And here I thought I was making progress with that.”

“So damn _weird_ ,” Kurogane mutters, but his lips are soft against Fai’s when he ducks down to kiss him with kindness Fai would have found painful if not altogether undeserved a few months ago. Right now he allows himself a contented sigh and leans forward, brings his hands up to thumb at Kurogane’s cheeks and laughs when he accidentally pokes at one of Kurogane’s eyes.

His magic is a quiet thrumming inside of him no louder than Kurogane’s breathing against his chest and Fai lets himself be reeled in, howling ghosts dissipating in the early spring.


End file.
